A Sithmas Carol
by DarthObsydian
Summary: A mean spirited Chancellor is confronted by three spirits on the Eve of Life Day in an attempt to save him from a tortured fate. (A retelling of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol)
1. Plagueis's Ghost

"**A Sithmas Carol"**

(A Star Wars Christmas Carol)

**Cast of Characters**

_"All__the world's a stage, and__all__the men and women_ _merely players."  
_

**Ebenezer Scrooge**- Chancellor Palpatine  
**Bob Cratchit**- Obi-Wan Kenobi  
**Tiny Tim**- Anakin Skywalker  
**Jacob Marley**- Darth Plagueis  
**Ghost of Christmas Past**- Darth Maul  
**Ghost of Christmas Present**- Master Yoda  
**Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come**- Emperor Palpatine  
**Fred**- Master Kit Fisto  
**Fezziwig**- Vidar Kim  
**Belle**- Padme' Amidala  
**Peter Cratchit**- R2D2  
**Martha Cratchit**- C3PO  
**Fan**- Assorted members of House Palpatine  
**The Portly Gentlemen**- Bail Organ & Jar-Jar Binks  
**Mrs. Cratchit**- Siri Tachi

**Preface **

_I have endeavored in this Ghostly little book to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humor with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it._

_Their faithful Friend and Servant,_

_C. D.  
_(Excerpt from _A Christmas Carol_)

**Episode One: Plagueis's Ghost**

**22 years BBY**

Plagueis was dead: to begin with. Sidious should know, after all, he had killed the Muun himself. The remains had been collected with no blessing from a holy man and no one who cared enough to grieve. Sidious had burned the body. And it was Sidious who poured the ashes into one of the spirit urns he kept at the entrance of his new office on Coruscant. Yes, old Darth Plagueis was… dead.

Ah! You were expecting some outdated simile to punctuate the unfortunate fate of the late Sith master. And if this were my story to tell, I might have been inclined to oblige you. But this is not the way of Darth Sidious, newly elected Supreme Chancellor Palpatine of Naboo. So, my novice fingers shall not taint the voice of such an extraordinary man. Therefore, I sincerely hope that you will take my word for it when I simply say, Plagueis was dead.

Sidious knew he was dead? Of course he did! Have you not been listening to anything that has been said in the previous paragraphs? My goodness man! What am I reciting this story for if you are just going to skim right over the details? Plagueis was his master for thirty-five standard years. Sidious was the one man with whom he had shared his secrets, the one man with whom he shared his power, and the one man with whom he shared his trust. That, of course, had been his fatal flaw. Sidious was such an exceptional man of duty that the very next day after taking the Muun's life he stepped up to his new position as Chancellor and gave an acceptance speech that won the heart of the Republic.

Sidious never let himself forget the time spent with his old master. Much of his apprenticeship had been so unlike the sort one reads about in the ancient texts. There was a kinship. They had shifted the balance of the Force together and they had set into motion a plan that none before them had been capable of executing. When he looked into the mirror, or when he held conversation, sometimes it could have just as well been Plagueis who was staring back at him or Plagueis who was sharing jokes and devising plans. Sometimes he was unsure of how much of what he did was born from his own mind or born of habit from his years of masked servitude. It did not matter. Sidious accepted both sides of himself, original and habitual. It made no difference to him.

Oh! But a true devote to the cause he was, that Sidious- a scheming, conniving, deceiving, masquerading shadow encroaching upon the ivory tower. Stern and unwavering in his quest for power, wearing a mask so secure that no amount of violent battering could draw from him a hint at the beast dwelling inside. He was a traitor to his home, the Republic, and to the galaxy. The darkness swimming within his soul was already starting to show upon his flesh. Though he was possibly the only one who could tell that there was anything unnatural about the progression of his body, for it was something he could feel deep in his bones. A slow erosion of humanity, a slinking crawl of decay held together by the ever strengthening chains of power. He carried that power with him and it coursed from the whitening hair on the top of his head, through the façade of his gentle face, into the pale blue of his eyes that drifted over the flames that lay beneath. Sidious promoted this thin façade wherever he went, from his office peppered in Sith decoration to his apartment where, in his sanctuary, he could dawn the cloak of his destiny, orchestrating the symphony of the Grand Plan to a magnificent crescendo. And this train of thought continued all throughout the year, never stopping for genuine celebration of any kind.

Temptations of the world had little influence on Sidious. No loving touch could seduce, no bitter glance could ruffle him. No storm could strike more severe than he, no poison as effective in its charge, and no predator as skilled in its advance. The shadows themselves seemed brighter once he entered their presence. And to make matters all the more appealing, no one was the wiser.

When people approached him in the senate or about the city- on the rare occasion that he would journey about- he was greeted with reverence, admiration, and even _love_. Sidious, at times, had to stop himself from laughing aloud, instead keeping his smirk to himself.

If they only knew.

Although, Sidious had to admit that he quite enjoyed the response. Like little insects kissing the bottom of boot right before it came down upon them. He could make his way across the galaxy into the cities, the homes, the very families of the people of his Republic. All knowing not that they would one day call him Emperor.

A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away – of all the days it could have been, on the Eve of Life Day – the Supreme Chancellor sat busy in his office. It was a day like any other. Palpatine was busy attempting to stop the raging attacks from the Separatists; Sidious was working diligently to assure that he would not succeed. It was near time for him to retire for the night and the bags were growing ever heavier under his eyes.

The archway of the Chancellor's office was so positioned so that he might observe the Jedi Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, who paced about a smallish desk going over the strategies the Council was forming to go against the droid army. Within his office, the Chancellor had a comfortable chair and the temperature was moderated to his liking by the building maintenance system. The area where Obi-Wan was working, however, was left to the chill of the outside temperature of the Coruscant air- for the cost of the war was taking its toll on the weather management systems, as well as indoor moderation alike. So there the Jedi was, using all his training to ignore his discomfort, but continually came up short. The only stretch of his imagination he could muster merely placed him on Hoth in the middle of a violent snow storm.

"A very happy Life Day to you, Chancellor!" announced an enthusiastic voice. That voice belonged to none other than Jedi Master Kit Fisto, who entered through the Chancellor's doors so abruptly and so unannounced that Sidious jumped, in spite of himself.

"Ah, Master Fisto, always a pleasure." Said Palpatine. "To what do I owe the honor?"

Kit Fisto had prepared himself for this conversation. It was no secret throughout the Council that the once jovial Chancellor was becoming more impatient and more secluded as the years progressed. Perhaps it was the Separatist resistance, but there was definitely a darkness that surrounded the Chancellor. And, whether or not they realized exactly what it was, the people of the Republic were feeling the effects too. And so:

"I come with a proposition, Your Excellency." Fisto said.

Palpatine raised a brow. "A proposition? Well, I can't wait to hear it."

Fisto smiled. "I propose that we share in celebration with the Wookie Holiday- Life Day. That we make it a galaxy wide tradition, with the blessings of the Wookies themselves, to help aid in the hope that peace is drawing near and to rejuvenate the spirits of all who dwell within the Republic with the knowledge that the Clone Wars shall not continue on forever."

Palpatine blinked. "I'm sure your intentions are well Master Fisto, but what the Republic needs is strategy, not celebration. This is what I and your Jedi Knight are trying to provide." He returned to his data pad. "If you would, make sure no heat escapes on your way out."

"I- I'm sorry." Kit Fisto said, taken aback. "But I don't believe I heard you correctly, Chancellor."

"Oh, you heard me just fine I suppose." Palpatine said. "To make it quite plane- Life Day, a humbug."

"Life Day a humbug, Chancellor!" said Kit Fisto. "I'm sure this is not how you feel."

"I'm afraid that this is exactly how I feel, Master Jedi." Said Palpatine. "Happy Life Day! I find it difficult to believe that a Jedi Master could be happy when so many innocent lives are being destroyed by an army of droids! What reasons do those families have to be happy as their lives are shattered? Not all people are as in control of their emotions as the Jedi Council. And I do not wish to insult their loss with festive songs and quirky bobbles placed about a dead tree."

"Chancellor!" replied Fisto, undiscouraged. "What purpose would it serve to keep the Republic in constant gloom? Why should they not celebrate their loved ones passage into the Force? Let them rejoice!"

Palpatine, without raising his eyes, replied, "Bah, humbug."

"I pray, Chancellor, don't be too rash," said the Jedi Master.

"Well what else do you expect from me," said the Chancellor. "When those- and believe I mean know offense, Master Jedi- but when those who are positioned to lead the Army of the Republic go about with no thought to the ever dwindling deficit that is causing those whom you swore to protect to starve! What would this Life Day be but finding yourself with more credits going towards trinkets than to sustenance! Master Fisto, if I could I would stop this war right away, but until that time anyone who goes about promoting a cause for throwing a party when the blood of the Republic is being spilled across the galaxy should be cooked inside of their own Bantha rump!" Palpatine smoothed his robes. "And that is all that I will say on the matter."

"Chancellor!" said Fisto, losing fire, at last.

"Master Jedi!" replied the Chancellor, his expression hard. "You serve the galaxy the way you have been trained to do, and I will do the same with the power of my position."

"Serve the Republic?" said Fisto. "There are more ways to serve than defense, Your Excellency."

"Oh, I agree. There are many ways from which one can derive hope without using up the resources that would keep the people safe. But of course, I'm sure you have exhausted all of those options if you are to come to me with a proposal of _Life Day_."

"I do not wish to out step my place, Chancellor, but I firmly believe that this holiday is exactly what the people need to drag them from their stupor! It has brought the Wookies hope in the past and if it has brought just one ounce of peace to a suffering spirit then I say that it does an excellent service and I say Force Bless it!"

Obi- Wan stepped from his position and gave a polite applause of approval. Noticing the Chancellor's irritated expression he simply bowed and returned to his strategizing.

"Getting any good progress over there, Master Kenobi?" said the Chancellor. "We wouldn't want to distract you." He turned his focus back to Kit Fisto. "It's almost a shame you were gifted with the Force. You would have made a brilliant politician."

"Thank you, Supreme Chancellor. Please say that you will think it over."

"I'm afraid I cannot give you my word on that matter, I am quite a busy man."

"Chancellor, again, forgive my informality, but I don't understand why?"

"Why did you become a Jedi, Master Fisto?"

Kit Fisto blinked. "Because it was my destiny."

"It was your destiny!" cried Palpatine as if he had just struck a magnificent fortune. "Perhaps if all people had as firm a since of their own destiny they wouldn't need reassurance of their fate! _That_ is what should be executed, not Life Day. Good Evening, Master Jedi, and do have a safe journey."

"Even with a secure destiny one can still have doubts as to their safety."

"The clock is ticking away and I really must be off," said Palpatine.

Kit Fisto bowed, respectfully and said, "All I ask is that, when you have time, consider the proposition. For the Republic."

"Indeed. Farewell."

"I hope that you are not as concrete as you sound, Chancellor. So, to ease your spirits, I say Happy Life Day once more!"

"Goodbye, Master Jedi. Do come again soon."

Master Fisto left the office just as quickly and soundlessly as when he first came in. He gave a nod to Master Kenobi, who seemed to have enjoyed the exchange quite a bit, and was gone.

Just as Master Fisto stepped out, Senator Bail Organa and Representative Jar-Jar Binks entered the Chancellor's office- also, unannounced. In their hands they held what looked to be a petition.

_Wonderful, _Sidious thought, forcing his smile to stay in place.

"Ah! And what do I owe the pleasure of this unscheduled visit?" Palpatine asked from his chair.

"Chancellor," Senator Organa said with a bow that the Gungan followed. "During these harsh times the Senate comes to you with a request to offer food and shelter to those who have been under attack in the outlying systems. Those who have been rendered poor and whose suffering is the greatest. Our hope is to keep the desperate from turning to crime to get by for as long as possible. We humbly ask for your approval, you will find the required amount of signatures has been acquired."

Palpatine looked at the outstretched document and then said, "I'm sorry, but has there been an interference with our prisons?"

The politicians exchanged glances. "No, I do not believe so."

"Force cages, containment fields, the method of 'mind prison', they are all still in action, am I correct?"

Bail Organa stiffened. "Yes, Excellency."

"Splendid! Then I believe there is no further need to continue this conversation."

"Weesa be wishin yousa be given some credits to the peoples whosa feelin very very scared onsacounta thisa war."

"No thank you."

"I'm sorry?"

Palpatine folded his hands on his desk and looked the Senator and Representative in the eye. "Is there an ever present problem with my office and its ability to turn one deaf? I will not sign over the approval to take away the Republic's protection for the destitute in the Outer Rim! If they are suffering, at this point, all I can do is say that they are not the only ones. If we help one group we must help them all! Anything less is unfair and unjustified. What these people need is peace! Not a holiday, not a charity- simply peace."

Senator Organa nodded. "So you do not wish to help those which you lead?"

"You insult me Senator!" Palpatine said. "Since you push me I shall tell you the honest truth. I can spare no generosity; I must find profit for the Republic. I wish to be left alone. I do not want to institute some silly celebration with colored lights, out of tune carols, or cheap gifts. I cannot afford to give any more to the poor. There are many opportunities for slave labor or other workhouse style circuits where the starving can be fed. If they are so desperate, that is the assistance I can spare to provide."

"What of those who cannot go there? And, to be frank Your Excellency, many would rather die than to do so."

"If their laziness stretches to such a degree as to die rather than fight for their lives, then perhaps that course of action would make it easier for us to defend the Republic if the population size were to dwindle down."

Knowing that it would prove pointless to debate the fact any further Senator Organa and Representative Binks bowed their heads and left the office, spirits sunken and Palpatine continued on with his work, pleased that he had successfully thwarted two attempts at sabotage to Sidious's plans.

As the time to end the day's work arrived, the Chancellor rose from his seat and Master Kenobi gathered his information and waited for Palpatine to approach him.

"Thank you for your service, Master Kenobi. I suppose if this absurdist movement of Life Day goes through, then you'll want the whole day tomorrow to roam about the city?"

"If you would be so kind, Chancellor," Obi-Wan said.

"To tell you the truth Master Jedi, I should not be so kind. We do not have time for this nonsense! Coruscant could be under attack tomorrow and where would you be? Plan-less and decked out in holly, along with the rest of the city."

Obi-Wan gave a small smile, "I assure you if this happens we will all be quite safe."

"That is an insufficient attempt at comfort, Master Obi-Wan." Palpatine and Obi-Wan left the office maintaining a synchronized pace. "I only ask that you meet me back here bright and early the next morning- _given _I give the celebration my approval… which I won't."

The Jedi Master bowed in reply; and the Chancellor entered his shuttle with a grunt. The doors shut with a hiss and Obi-Wan lifted his cowl, and in favor of it being Life Day Eve, went and had a cup of hot Jeru Tea at Dex's Diner, chatted for awhile, and then decided to head back to the temple. On his way he spotted a group of younglings playing ball and he asked to join; he played for awhile in honor of his unusually elated mood.

Sidious ate his dinner quietly at his usual seat at his usual restaurant and, patting his mouth with a napkin, he headed to his apartment, guards ever present in the back of his private shuttle all the way to 500 Republica. Take my word on it when I say that what with the lavish rooms, the protection of the guards, the frequent parties, and each apartment maintained at the exact lighting and temperature as the tenant required, the residents of 500 Republic- if they had not the means to turn on the news- would never have known that a war was raging outside of their doors. Sidious lived there alone and very seldom had company these days, which was just the way he liked it. A fuse must have blown and, evidently, the ample amount of maintenance staff was slacking on their job for it was so dark along the corridor where the Chancellor's corner apartment sat that Sidious was in need of the Force to feel his way to his doors.

Now, it is a fact, there was nothing at all particular about the door release panel of his apartments, aside from the fact that it was unusually ornate. It is also a fact that Sidious had set his eyes on the release panel multiple times a day for well over a decade. It is also important to mention that, aside from the occasional recollection of a memory from his training, Sidious had not given Plagueis a serious thought in ten years. So therefore- and if anyone can explain this to me, please let him come forth and do so- how is it that when Sidious lifted his hand to unlock the door he saw not the panel, but the face of Darth Plagueis.

Plagueis's face. It was not cloaked in darkness as the rest of the corridor was, but, instead, emitted a blue light like that of the sun of Mastala. The expression of the Munn was not vengeful or filled with malice; rather it appeared as if the Muun were sleeping- much like the night that Sidious had taken his life. The respirator he wore seemed to emit a long, drawn out hiss, and, slowly his eyes opened and fixed on Sidious. The horror that built within the Sith was beyond any sort he had yet to experience and the fear radiated from him, appearing more supernatural than the phenomenon itself.

As Sidious stared at the apparition, it resumed the form of the panel once more.

To say that his heart had not tripled its pace, or that his breathing had not all but stopped as he used all his years of discipline to stop his hand was trembling, could not be anything other than false. But, he shook his head, pressed the release, and entered his apartment, which also appeared to be suffering from a failure of light.

He _did _however halt for a moment at the hiss of the shutting door; and he _did_ step forward cautiously as he approached the corridor that led to his private chambers half expecting to see the tall form of Plagueis looming at the end of the hall. But there was no such sight and Sidious muttered a silent curse and marched over to the wall with the backup generator and light was once again restored to his home.

You may have experienced what it is like to wander through a museum or have heard tales of a young adventurer stumbling upon the discovery of artifacts from another realm with wonders that extended far beyond the mind's ability to perceive. That is the best description I can provide for what is felt when one steps into the Chancellor's chamber. The décor was composed of art and trinkets from his many travels throughout the galaxy and each piece was as familiar to him as if it had been crafted from his very fingertips. It was often that he found himself in a peaceful sort of meditation when gazing upon the beauty of his collection, so intimate did his affections run. Therefore, it made the unease he was now feeling all the more unsettling.

Down the hall Sidious went, shunning his own weakness and hesitation. However, before he let the doors shut behind him, he made another glance through his apartments just to make sure nothing was out of place. The face of his old master was still prominent enough in his mind to warrant that.

Reception-room, Royal suite, and private quarters all untouched by any ghostly visitors.

Satisfied, although still alert as to the disturbance he felt in the Force, he let his door shut and made sure that it locked from the inside. Shaking his head, Sidious crossed to his closet and began to dress down for bed. Donning his nightgown he withdrew from his cabinet a bottle of Sullustan wine, poured himself a glass, and then settled down in his chair, intent on relaxation. Upon his wall hung a tapestry that woven throughout held the history of the Republic. There were Imperials and their armies, Emperors and Chancellors, Sith, Angels hailing from Iego to sing the praises of the Jedi who rose from the darkness intent on lifting the Republic from the ash. Looking upon the faces of the souls of millennia past one would believe that there would have been enough to distract him from the one soul that seemed to still haunt him, but be damned if through his mind the tapestry did not transform and he saw the face of Plagueis upon every figure.

Sidious cursed again and, sitting his glass down, he began to pace across the room.

After a while, he retook his seat. Rubbing the bridge of his nose he focused his eyes on the small signal light above his door, long out of use as no one was permitted passage down the corridor where he kept his chambers, let alone allowed inside the chambers themselves. This fact could perhaps explain why the terrible feeling of dread struck him once more when the crimson light found his eyes and the ringing chime found his ears- as did every other chime within 500 Republic, as loudly as it did seem to him.

The length of this phenomenon was a mystery to him, but, if he had to reckon, it had lasted an eternity. The chimes ended as abruptly as they had started. What followed next, perhaps, was even more to his distaste. A scraping, clanking sort of noise, as if someone was dragging a heavy chain throughout the halls of the outside apartments. Sidious then remembered his previous thoughts of the chains of power and fought to force the recollection from his mind.

The doors to the Royal Suite were burst open with a boom that they were not designed to emit, and then the sound became louder throughout his apartments and seemed to wind its way to the base of the corridor that led to the bedchamber; then coming straight towards his door.

"It cannot be!" said Sidious. "I don't believe it!"

His spirit fell though, when, without warning, the figure came through the door and entered into his chamber before Sidious had time to blink. Upon its entering, Sidious felt the will of the Force shift, burning through his own spirit like wildfire. "I know him! Plagueis!"

The same figure: the very same. Untouched, it seems, from the passage of time, save for the shackles he wore. The chain he dragged wrapped about his waist and fell in a heap on the ground. It was long enough, Sidious surmised, that if it were to be thrown off the edge of his balcony, it would fall all the way to the streets below with links still to spare. The chain was made (for Sidious observed every detail) of heavy books, enlarged vials, operation equipment, concreted boxes that resembled testing cages, shattered holocrons, and sabers weighed down with steel; the links themselves emitted a low, drawling cackle and Sidious knew that it pulsed with Sith lightening, which kept the spirit of the Muun in a constant agony.

It had often been said that Hego Damask was soulless, but, evidently, those rumors were false.

Though, fighting against what he knew to be true, he looked upon the Sith phantom and its frigid gaze with a feeling of stern, unfaltering disbelief.

"What is this!" said Sidious, as callous as ever. "What could you possibly want with me, the one who struck you down?"

"More than you can provide." Plagueis said- the voice was unmistakable.

"Who are you?"

"Perhaps you should inquire who I was."

"Who _were_ you then?" Said Sidious, who already knew his answer.

"Before you took my life I was your master, Darth Plagueis."

Sidious looked the floating figure up and down before adding, "are you able to sit?"

"Yes."

"Then, please." Sidious said, motioning to the chair opposite him.

Sidious had asked the question, not out of any real concern for the spirit's abilities, but because if the figure were unable to do so then it might require a bit of an explanation, which would involve this meeting to stretch on all the longer than it had to. However, that was not the case, for Plagueis sat and looked upon him as he had many a time within his residence on Sojourn.

"You doubt what you see," observed Plagueis.

"I do," said Sidious.

"Are you so arrogant in your seat of power that you think yourself beyond the grip of the netherworld?"

"At this point, I am uncertain."

"Why do you go against your feelings?"

"Because," said Sidious, "the Force has been restless of late. The Dark Side now reigns supreme, yet that does not mean the Jedi do not fight. As such, it is possible that any little thing could upset perception. You may be an undigested bit of steak, a bubble of broth, a crumb of Hayla, a fragment of underdone Corellian potato. There is more of gravy that of grave about you, I'll tell you that!"

At this lighting shot from the spirit's body in enormous forks as Plagueis wailed and seized in agony. The chain was shaken with such violent tremors that Sidious found himself gripping the chair to keep from falling feint. But his horror grew to unnatural heights when Plagueis removed his respirator to free an elongated piece of his decaying jaw to fall with a slick to his chest!

Sidious fell to his knees in a frail attempt at a bow.

"Wait!" he said. "What is they bidding, my old master?"

"Fool!" the Ghost said as the lightening returned to its place inside of his body. "Do you see me now or not?"

"Yes," said Sidious. "I have no other choice, but why have you come to me? You've been dead ten years now!"

"When you struck me down in my sleep you did so with the confidence that you could fulfill your destiny alone. That you could restore the Sith to their rightful place as the rulers of the galaxy. Now, however, your arrogance has become a weakness. A weakness that is impeding upon your ability to succeed. You're turning your allies against you in such a way that stands to squander the efforts that took a millennium to forge!"

Again the lightening sent the spirit writhing and the chain shook fiercely.

"You wear chains, Master," said Sidious. "Why?"

"I wear the chain of the torment devised of my own design," Plagueis replied. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard. Every murder, every failure, every ounce of suffering caused by my hands is what forged the metal that binds me now. Look closely, for you should know its design well."

Again, Sidious shuddered.

"Or would you know the weight and length of the chain _you _wear? For it was the twin of mine ten full years ago. How much weight have you added since then? It is ponderous indeed."

Though Sidious looked around and saw nothing, suddenly he felt a great weight descend on him and he found it difficult to keep himself upright.

"Master," he said, imploringly. "Plagueis, continue on. But I implore you, speak to me some shred of peace."

"I have none to give," the Muun replied. "It would befit you to know that for the latter part of my life I never left the confines of my lair where I sought immortality through the murder and rebirth of countless victims. Now I am forced to move for eternity, watching those who still live, watching those who did not share my ignorance, always without rest or reprieve, for it was sleep that was the mistake that turned me into such a hopeless, powerless, soul. Now power is what binds me! I would do anything to rid myself of it."

Meditating on the words of the spirit, Sidious said, "Ten years dead and never a moment of rest?"

"Never. And not feeling any less than a tortured despair."

"Is your pace a quick one?"

"You saw how quickly I came upon you."

"You must have covered a lot of ground in ten years."

The Sith spirit wailed again as the lightening engulfed him once more and the chain thrashed about in the likeness of a den of angry serpents.

"Hear me!" cried the Ghost. "My time is nearly gone."

"I will," said Sidious. "But if you wish to unleash your wrath you had best do it now!"

"The way that you are able to see me now as I stand before you is a secret that I care not to share, but know this: there has not been a day that has gone by that I have not been watching you."

It was not an unexpected comment, but Sidious could not help but shudder nevertheless.

"That is no joy for me, I assure you," continued the Ghost. "I come tonight with a warning for you, that there is still hope for you to escape this fate. Consider this my one true gift to you, my old apprentice."

"You were always so wise, Plagueis," said Sidious. "You ever governed me well."

"You will be haunted," resumed the Ghost. "by Three Spirits."

Sidious's eyes widened, ever slightly, but he nodded.

"Is this my hope?"

"Yes."

"As I mentioned, Plagueis, you were always so wise. However I do not believe that will be necessary. I have succeeded in the Plan thus far and I do not foresee that I will fail. And there is little that I do not foresee," Sidious said.

"Without their visits," said the Sith's spirit, "you will have little chance of shunning my fate- let alone surviving to crown yourself 'Emperor'. Expect the first tomorrow when the bell tolls One."

"If I must go through with this, couldn't I just meet them all at once and let it be done with, My Lord?" said Sidious.

"The second shall arrive the next night at the same time. The third the next night as soon as the twelfth stroke of midnight is threw. I would suggest you hold on to what you have seen tonight- it may save you from an eternity of torment. I shall appear to you no more."

With that, the sprit shot through the doors and down the corridor, ensnaring Sidious in the knot of his chain, dragging him through his apartments at a frightening speed. As they approached the window that looked upon his balcony, Sidious became acutely aware of a discombobulated jumble of lamentations and hopelessness. Plagueis listened for a moment and then faded into the shadows of the night to join the chorus of damnation.

As he did so, the specter jerked his chain one last time and Sidious was sent through the window and doubled over balcony railing just as the last link of the chain unraveled from his person. Despite his better judgment, Sidious decided to look upon the city.

The sky was filled with phantoms, moving in an incredible hurry, but never reaching any given destination, moaning and weeping as they did so. Each of them wore a chain like Plagueis's Ghost- although not all were quite as long. A great many of them Sidious had known in life. One figure being that of the Gran, Pax Teem, whom Sidious had burned alive, exactly three decades before. The misery of each of them was obviously that they sought to make progress, they sought to right the wrongs, but their torment was that they had lost their power- forever.

Sidious was uncertain as to how, exactly, the spirits had left his sight, or was he entirely sure as to whether or not they had been there at all. But sure enough, with another blink of his eye, the specters were gone.

Sidious stepped away from the railing and closed the windows (how they were not broken was another phenomenon altogether) and relocked all the doors through which the spirit had entered that led to his chambers. He tried to curse again but the words caught in his throat and the only thing that he still had energy enough to do was down his glass of wine, find his way to his bed, and fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**First and foremost I thank you for reading this far. My purpose for writing this is to make as close to cannon adaptation of the Charles Dickens novel as possible. As such, I believe it is prudent for me to mention that I- in no way- intend to take Dickens' words as my own. The Characters are Lucas's, the skeleton of the tale belongs to Dickens; the way that they are woven together is all that I take credit for. All that I am trying to do is stay true to Dickens' style.**

**For this story, more so than any other that I have written, I ask you for your feedback. This is a challenge for me- I plan to have the entire story finished by Christmas Day, so please, tell me what you think! (Review or PM, all the same to me at this point)**

**Special thanks to **DarkJediJade** who once again provided the cover art for this story, as well as support as I tried to make this work!**


	2. The First of the Three Spirits

**Episode Two: The First of the Three Spirits**

When Sidious awoke, it was to darkness unheard of for a Coruscant night. He reached out with the Force to better see the images outside of his window to find that the entire city was shrouded in thick clouds of black, other worldly in their depth and sickening in their weight. Sidious was about to step from his bed when he heard the chimes of the chrono tower begin to strike the signal for the new hour.

_One, two, three_, Sidious counted, already knowing the bell would toll until the clock struck twelve.  
And so it did.

"How can this be," said Sidious. Had he truly slept all through the day into the next night, or was this the work of demons stealing the sun to leave him in a world of darkness until the work of the spirits was through.

Sidious rose from his bed, traveled down the corridor, and stepped onto his balcony, seizing the sight with the eyes of his flesh. All was still and devastatingly cold. There were no sounds of taxi's, speeders, or any other form of traffic. There were no signs of light at all. The feeling that griped at his stomach was so unnerving that, for a moment, he thought himself dead- or at the very least, trapped in some netherworld, alone and forgotten on an orbiting ball, void of life.

Sidious tensed at the recollection of his encounter with Plagueis's Ghost. Perhaps it was not a dream after all...

The Sith returned to his chair, sipping on his cup of wine, remembering the foretelling of another spirit's arrival as soon as the clock struck one. He resolved to wait until then. If the hour past void of haunting, he could brush the phenomenon aside and continue on with business as usual. If it turned that all that was to occur was the truth then... well, he would deal with that matter later.

The wait became so long that Sidious began to question whether or not he was even awake at all, and the clock would chime five in the morning soon and he would awake and go about his senate business as usual. He was close to convincing himself to believe this very thing when, at long last, the quarter stroke reached his ears.

_Ding, dong!_

Half past.

_Ding Dong!_

A quarter till.

Ding Dong!

"One," said Sidious, closing his eyes, "And no spirit to greet me upon the hour."

He rose from his chair, intent on finding his way back to sleep when he felt himself rise from the ground and, before he had a chance to react, he was flung onto the bed, smacking his head on the wall. Light flashed into the room in an instant and Sidious raised his covers to keep from going blind when the fabric was jerked from his hands.

When Sidious reopened his eyes he was staring face to face with another haunted visitor who flew to his side as close as I am now to you- if you were to imagine, of course, that I was face to face with you, near enough that our noses nearly touch.

It was a strange figure- like a child; yet not so like a child, rather a creature who appeared as old as time and forever young. The features of the specter were made even more haunting in their familiarity. Its frame was lean, muscled, and angled so that it appeared ready to fend of attack, only adding to his appearance of strength. It wore robes of black shimmersilk, bound at the waist with a lustrous belt, polished so that it shined with a beautiful, dark light. It held a torch in its hand that burned with a crimson flame in each hand. But the strangest thing about it was, that from the ten horns that crowned its head there sprung a bright clear het of light, which was what made all these features become visible; and, under his arm, he held an extinguisher for a cap.

This, Sidious noted, was _not_ the creature's strangest quality. For now, as his eyes were drawn back down to the belt, he noticed that in one instance the belt would flicker and burst alive with light and then its glittering pattern would shift and the light would flicker out and the darkness would be so severe that the figure itself seemed to waver in its distinctiveness. Appearing as a thing with one leg, one arm, twenty legs, now a pair of legs, headless, bodiless; the dissolving parts depended solely on the light for which flickered behind them to be visible, for without it they would melt away. But once the light shown the figure would be whole once more; distinct as ever.

Sidious scooted closer to the edge of his bed, his mouth opened slightly in awe at his recognition. "Maul!" exclaimed Sidious. "Are you the Spirit whose coming was foretold to me?"

"I am!"

The voice was soft and harsh. Barely above a whisper, sounding as if it the words were spoken at a great distance, rather than spoken beside him, as they were.

"What are you now," Sidious demanded.

"I am the Ghost of Life Day Past."

"Long past?" inquired Sidious: observant of how dwarfish Maul was since their last encounter.

"_Your_ past."

Perhaps it was just Sidious's curiosity, perhaps it was some bizarre motion of fate, but either way Sidious had an unusual desire to see the Spirit with its cap.

"What!" exclaimed the Spirit, "would you so put out, with your worldly hands, the light I give? Is it not enough that my body was destroyed in an attempt to further _your_ plan? Is it not enough that it is for your passions that this cap was created and now I am forced, year round, to wear it on my head, stifling all light and search around in violent darkness!"

Sidious brushed aside the notion that he had meant to offense and becoming irritated at the accusations coming from a specter who he had not only once called him master, but one who had put a damper on the mood of his own master's demise.

Wondering why so many figures from his past were coming to haunt him, he inquired why the Spirit was there now.

"Your welfare!" said the Spirit.

"That is all very considerate of you," Sidious said. "But a full night's sleep would have helped me achieve that just as well as a dance with old demons."

"Your reclamation, then; follow me."

It extended one hand and the torch he held flickered away as he clasped the Sith by the arm.

"Rise."

Sidious knew that it would do him no good to resist the Spirit. There were no conditions that he could think of to excuse the purposes. He was capable of withstanding the frigid temperatures, any danger they passed he was skilled enough to avoid it easily, and fear was not something he was accustomed to being dominated by. Nevertheless he gave it a try once they reached the balcony where he and the then living Maul had spoken before."

"I am still mortal," Sidious stated. "If you are to fly, I shall fall."

"Do not be so foolish, my old Master," said the Spirit. "A touch of my hand and no such peril shall befall you."

As the words were released from the Spirit's lips, they passed through the wall, and stood upon the bank of the lake that he recognized was not far from what once was the residence of House Palpatine. The city was gone, as was all trace of fog, mist, and darkness and the day around him was clear and bright, with snow upon the ground and a cool breeze blowing through his hair.

"Do you know this place?" said the Spirit.

"Unfortunately."

The Spirit glanced at him. Sidious felt the touch upon his arm, light, but intentional. The Sith sensed that the Spirit was intuitive to everything the older man was feeling. He was aware of a thousand different fragrances dancing through the air, each one connected with a thousand different memories- most unpleasant- that had been long forgotten.

"Your teeth are grinding," said the Ghost. "And what is that fire in your eye?"

Sidious glared at the Spirit, which only gave a faint smile in response. "Do you remember the way?"

"The path through Hell is not one that is easily forgotten."

"Then let us go on."

They walked along the road; Sidious recognizing every gate, every hole, every tree; until at last they reached the courtyard that he had so often looked out on from the balcony of his childhood room. Amidst the flowers, fountains, and statues roamed his four younger siblings, all laughing and dancing whilst their mother sat, watching, with a tired look upon her face. Their father, of course, was nowhere to be found.

"These creatures are but shadows," said the Ghost. "They know not that we are here."

"Obviously," replied Sidious.

"The house is not quite deserted," the Spirit said. "A solitary child, ostracized by his family, remains there still."

"I know."

The Spirit touched his arm and the two of them gazed up at Palpatine's younger self, propped up on the windowsill, reading. His brow was furrowed and even then, at eight years of age, his pale blue eyes were filled with anger and resentment at his pointless abandonment.

"Poor boy," Sidious said, although no real emotion had afflicted him, he spoke with a tone of sincerity.

"I wish," Sidious muttered, folding his hands behind his back. He shook his head, "but it's too late now."

"What is?" asked the Spirit.

"Nothing," said Sidious. "Nothing. It's just, if I had any real wits about me I would have slaughtered them all this very day, rather than taint the next nine years with their company."

The Ghost smiled, thoughtfully, and waved its hand. "Let us see another Life Day!"

Palpatine's younger self changed at the words, growing taller, sterner, colder, but unmoved from his position at the window; but how all this happened, Sidious knew no more than you or I do. He only knew that the scene was genuine and that, once again, he sat up there alone, hated, and unwanted by those pathetic excuses for relations.

He was no longer reading, but pacing to and fro seething. Sidious glared at the Ghost, and with an irritated shake of his head, turned to look at the door.

It opened; and a little girl, younger than the boy, came darting in, followed by two a boy and another girl, both slightly younger than the younger Palpatine was at that moment.

"Father wishes to see you, brother."

"I'm proud of him." replied Palpatine.

"Now!" said the elder girl. "Father's banquet is tonight. Please don't make us go through this again. Try to be civil! He's in such a good mood and we don't want you to spoil that again. Come on down, see what you want, pretend to be merry, and then, to be frank, I could care less if you choked on a piece of Shaak."

"Oh, well, as long as you're frank."

All three siblings rolled their eyes and exited the room. The younger Palpatine turned to look outside of the window, his eyes so fierce that even the present day Sidious had to admit he was impressed. Then he shook his head and exited the door to see what sort of game Cosinga wished to play now.

"Always a cherished thing, family," said the Ghost. "So much affection it's a wonder you ever desired to rid yourself of it."

"Indeed."

"They died as children," said the Ghost.

"Yes," Sidious returned.

Although they had but turned their back to the estate, they were now outside of a grand celebration in the middle of Theed, where shadowy figures sang and danced all about them. The streets were filled to the point of overflowing and shadows of speeders and taxies flew past them.

The Ghost stopped outside of a certain estate door, and asked Sidious if he knew it.

"Know it!" said Sidious. "This was the residence of Vidar Kim. I was apprenticed to him under the Legislative Youth Program."

They went in. Standing in the middle of the festivities stood a gentleman with brown hair, fair skin, and who stood a full head taller than Palpatine himself. Sidious smiled, faintly.

"And there he is. Vidar Kim, alive again."

Palpatine, now a grown man, was shaking hands with the Chommell Sector's senator who was motioning him towards a young man and woman who appeared to be a round the bouts of seven years Palpatine's junior.

"Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie," Sidious said. "It has been awhile indeed."

The music picked up and high upon a lofty stage stood a small orchestra from Clak'dor VII. The gasan player struck up the tune and the dancing started up once more, every face wearing a most joyful smile. Men and women twirled about Sidious and his otherworldly companion at such a dizzying rate that, midst it all, the scene began to change and the figures before him began to morph before his eyes.

A glance around them told Sidious that they were inside the Theed Royal Palace. It seemed as if every Naboo on the planet was pouring in to the room. In came the vendors, the nurses, and politicians from all around the galaxy, advisors, commoners, royals, all smiling, laughing, and making merry. The dancers took to the middle of the room and twirled about, some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling, but out they came nonetheless- at least twenty couples at once. When the song was finished the members of the band dumped their heads in a bowl of fire water, supplied for that very purpose. Once they had their fill, they stood again and reappeared as an entirely new band, and picked right up where they left off as if the old band had drug away and a new one had reappeared, completely rejuvenated and decades younger.

In the back of the room stood a much older Senator Palpatine standing next to the newly elected Queen of Naboo Padmé Amidala. He laughed and smiled at all the right moments and she seemed quite enamored, despite the stern appearance of her ceremonial make-up.

Palpatine extended his hand and the two walked out to join the new line of dancers that was forming. In groups of two, men and women skipped to the center of the room, took hands, spun around, and resumed their stations on either side of the room. When the ripple came to Palpatine he heard someone shout:

"Senator! Take up your pass!"

The younger Palpatine nodded at the woman with a smile and stepped out into the center and, to his apparent delight, was met by Queen Amidala herself. The dancers around them seemed to dissolve as the music changed in melody and slowed in tempo. Palpatine took a step back from his queen and gave a low, formal bow. When he lifted his head he smiled at her shy curtsy and he took her into his arms and began their dance.

The two were vaguely aware of the glances cast their way, but it scarcely seemed to matter. Palpatine saw in her eyes a deep love of her friend, mentor, and political ally; and, perhaps, something more. As the song ended, the two head figures stood, motionless for a little while longer. Slowly, the younger Palpatine lifted her hands up to his lips, where he then placed a kiss on her fingers, and then bowed one last time before joining the lines of people leaving for the night.

During the whole of this time, Sidious stood close to emotionless, watching as these things passed. There was no real feeling attached to the memory, yet in this state, he recalled every little detail with vivid accuracy. He turned to the Ghost, aware of how it looked upon him, while the light he put off burned brighter than it had before.

"Their spirits seem well," said the Ghost. "With such gratitude these creatures seem easy enough to bend to anyone's will, wouldn't you agree."

"Controlling Naboo has never been difficult," said Sidious.

The Spirit nodded in the direction of the receding festivities. "Someone who would spend time, effort, and money on such meager activities for beings of no use, value, or importance in the galaxy deserves disgrace at best for being so frivolous, don't you agree? And _you_ were the one who funded this occasion, were you not? It appears as a weakness for indulgence to me."

"It isn't that," said Sidious, the yellow fire heating his eyes in his anger of the remark coming from someone who, Spirit or no, once called him master. His next words came out as a restrained hiss. "It isn't that, _Spirit_. The quickest way to win a person's servitude is to win their love. Lesser beings thrive in entertainment. It gives them comfort, it gives them hope. With the limited supply of food they were able to acquire, these people needed the promise of a better tomorrow- which I provided. Through this, I have earned not only the loyalty and support of the people, but of their queen as well. It is through such acts of _indulgence_ that I earned the seat of Chancellor. This frivolity granted me power. And such power comes with much more than what meager fortune this festivity cost and it would be a great folly of arrogance to believe one capable of achieving such devotion without doing otherwise."

At the Spirit's glance, he halted.

"What is the matter," asked the Ghost.

"Nothing of importance," said Sidious.

"Something, I think," insisted the Ghost

"No," Sidious said. "I was just recalling a conversation I had with someone from my past. That is all."

His former self nodded at the servant who handed him his coat and left the party with a laughing, elder gentleman; and Sidious and the Ghost again stood side by side in the open Theed streets.

"My time grows short," observed the Spirit. "Quick!"

This was not directly spoken to Sidious, nor to anyone else that could be seen, but the result was immediate. Again, Sidious saw himself, aged only but a few years from the latter encounter.

He was not alone. Walking beside him near the lake's shore, was Padmé Amidala, now a senator, garbed in an eloquent form fitting dress: in whose eyes there were tears, which glistened like stars in the light provided by the Ghost of Life Day Past.

"I can't say that it matters much," she said, softly. "To you, I presume, very little. This romance between us, we both know cannot be. Duty pulls us along different paths, you and I; and yours is destined for greatness that I dare not hold you back from. And if this is so, I suppose I have no cause to grieve."

"Why must my position displace you?" he asked, lifting her hands to his chest.

"You fight primarily for the Republic, for a system and bureaucracy- I for our people, the individuals. At some point we are bound to disagree."

"No love is without disagreement, my dear," Palpatine said.

Sidious snorted, which earned him another glance from the Spirit.

"Yes, but one on which the welfare of countless lives depend is not one that should be taken on in a lover's quarrel, don't you agree?"

"You fear the world to much," he responded, gently. "So much so that your reluctance to find passion keeps you beyond living at all; I have seen how noble you can be. I have seen what you can do. Don't lose your own happiness entirely for the sake of others, love. I have been good to you, have I not?"

"You are good to everyone, Chancellor. That's what makes you so wonderful."

"What is the use of leaving then?" he replied with a smile. "If I am so _wonderful_. After all, I am unchanged towards you."

She shook her head.

"Am I?"

"No. But I fear the pain if you should. That is why I feel it is best to part now and remain as friends. The thought of losing you, is unbearable."

"I shall remember those words fondly, My Lady."

"I hope that you do not feel that a view you in any cold light," she returned. "I simply wish to end this union in a place of love."

"I understand," the younger Chancellor said. "But I do hope you know, I have never sought release."

"Yes, I know. And neither have I, nor would I," she said, her eyes downcast. "But, I believe, this… is for the best. I have to believe that."

Palpatine nodded and, cupping her chin in his hand, he placed a kiss atop her brow. "And so, I shall release you and shall seek you out no more."

"I would gladly request otherwise if I could," she answerd.

"I know."

He helped her into the waiting speeder, where she clung to his hand for a moment longer.

"I wish you all the happiness in the path you have chosen," Palpatine said, with a smile.

"I wish for your happiness as well, Chancellor. I pray the next time we cross paths it will be in a warm sense of friendship and all yearning for more be wiped clean in the face of the future."

"You are quite the wonder, My Lady," Palpatine said as she released his hand.

In that, she left him, and they parted.

"Spirit," said Sidious. "Why do you show me these things? Do you seek to pull on my affections? Her love meant less to me than my own mother's, why must I look upon it now?"

"This used to be your way, serving others to serve yourself."

"And so?"

"You were wiser then."

"I am no less so now," Sidious said, grinning as lightening crackled at his finger tips.

"Do I sense anger?"

"Only at your absurdity," said Sidious. "Why do you insist on taunting me?"

"Is it my fault that you've grown weak in your age?"

Sidious's jaw tightened. "Take me back."

"If you lose your power it will be your own fault," said the Ghost.

Sidious gnashed his teeth. "I said, take me back!"

"Do not blame _me_," the Spirit hissed.

In that instant, Sidious turned on the Ghost, and seeing it look upon him its face wavered and melded into all the faces melded into all the faces he had shown him and all seemed to mock him.

"Haunt me no longer!"Sidious snarled and a burst of lightening escaped his fingers and engulfed the spirit who exploded into a blinding shower of light. Droplets fell onto Sidious's arms, chest, and face and began to burn with an intensity that he cried out, in spite of himself.

When the last pool of light had faded into darkness, Sidious became aware of just how exhausted he had become and was overcome with an inescapable drowsiness. He blinked and found himself back in his chambers and, with a roll of his eyes; he sank into a heavy sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This chapter proved more difficult that I originally thought seeing as there is not much in our beloved Chancellor's past the promotes much lingering emotion- especially not that of sorrow. This chapter, for sure, will have tweaking at the end but I sort of had to rush through this one for the sake of expediency, HOWEVER the others will not suffer the same fate. Thank you & I hope you continue to have the happiest of holidays!**


	3. The Second of the Three Spirits

**Episode Three: The Second of the Three Spirits**

Awaking in the middle of the night in the midst of a fitful dream, and sitting up in bed to collect his thoughts, Sidious had no need to be told that the bell once again tolled One. He felt that he was pulled out of his sleep at exactly the right moment, for the special purpose of taking up travel with the second messenger sent to him through Plagueis's intervention. But, finding that he turned incredibly cold as he scanned the corners of his room, looking for where the specter might appear next; for he wished to address the Spirit the moment it made its appearance, rather than be taken by surprise and be made to look foolish.

Those of the Republic who pride themselves on their wealth, class, and freedom also fancy their spontaneity and familiarity with the wee hours of the morning. As such they fancied themselves capable of wide ranges in their adventurous personalities that could be molded at any given time to fit whatever desires their company had.

Sidious thought these people to be fools. He himself was thoroughly crafted to be good for anything from a game of catch to manslaughter. This skill had been molded throughout his life by being tossed into a miscellaneous jumble of situations that called for different approaches to achieve escape. Therefore, it is not difficult for me to tell you that, at that moment, Sidious was ready for a magnificent stretch of odd appearances, and that nothing between a baby and a wampa would have astonished him very much.

Now, having prepared himself for almost anything, he was not at all prepared for nothing; and, as such, when the Bell did indeed strike One, and no specter appeared, he was made quite uneasy indeed. Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour went by, yet he was still alone. All this time, he lay in bed; staring at the glowing chrono on his night table with such intensity that it is a wonder it did not spontaneously combust, as he kept imagining it would do. At last, however, he began to think- was you or I would have realized from the start; for it always seems that the person who is not in a particular predicament is the one who knows exactly what should be done, and would have, without a doubt, done it too- at last, I say, he thought that the next ghostly visitor might, in fact, be in the main parlor of his apartments, from whence a light was shining underneath his door. Not one to louse around once a decision was made, Sidious rose from bed and headed towards the door.

The moment Sidious's left his private chamber a strange voice called his name from the end of the corridor, and bade him come forth. He obeyed.

It was his own parlor. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a rather surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were draped with such greenery that it appeared as if he were walking through some enchanted grove; every part of which was decorated with glittering berries. Droplets of dew clung to the crisp leaves and shined back upon the floor like thousands of glittering mirrors. Heaped up on the floor, forming a sort of throne, were duck, shaak, game, nuna, poultry, great sums of various meat, pies, Wookie-cookies, pudding, unnumbered jugs of Hoth chocolate, luscious pears, apples, grapes, cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that filled the entire room with wonderful odors and delicious steam. With all this magnificence Sidious couldn't help but think that that some sort of jolly Giant would be seated upon his couch.

However, this was not the case. No, what greeted him was not a giant at all, rather a short, hobbled, green…. Oh, no.

"Master Yoda?" Sidious inquired, nearly falling back upon the floor.

"Come in, you must!" exclaimed the living Spirit. In his hand he held up a grand horn and the light around him shined brighter than before, washing over Sidious as he eased himself into the room.

Though the Spirit's eyes were warm and kind, Sidious refused to look at them. "What are you doing here?"

"The Ghost of Life Day Present, I am," said the Spirit. "Look upon me!"

Sidious finally did so. It was clothed in the same brown robes as it had always been. It used the same gnarled cane. As a matter of fact, the only thing changed from how the Jedi Master appeared every day was that all around him was a glittering orb of light and that his voice held a booming, otherworldly quality that demanded attention with thunderous joy.

"Never the likes of me, have you seen before!" exclaimed the Spirit.

"Of course I have," said Sidious. "Now, might I inquire what it is you're doing in my apartment, well, like… this?"

"Who better to show you, the things of the present, than a spirit in the form of someone you know," said the Ghost.

"I see," Sidious said, rubbing his temples against his forming headache.

The Ghost of Life Day Present rose.

"Spirit," said Sidious, finally. "Conduct me where you will. Last night's journey was intriguing enough, and if more can be gained from yet another journey, let me profit from it.

"Touch my robe!"

Sidious had to bend to do so, but he held fast.

Greenery, berries, ivy, game, poultry, meat, fruit, punch, pudding, shaak, and nuna all vanished instantly. So did the room, the ruddy glow, the darkness of night and they stood along the city streets on Life Day morning.

It seemed as if, despite the Chancellor's decree, the people were rushing to make ready the preparations for the day's festivities. Representatives of various species called out to each other in an extraordinary chorus of foreign tongues. Some diners were still open, but for the most part the vendors and shop owners were lining the streets with their carts and featuring dishes special for the occasion. Couples of children ran about through the throng of pedestrians laughing giddily as they hid behind high blooming pyramids of pears and apples. The shopkeepers were making merry with the spectacle and they played along by putting grapes, berries, and cheeses on pointless hooks so that people's mouths might water as they passed by. The fragrance that filled the air was sweeter than Sidious had ever thought possible for the city and he was reminded of his walks through the valleys of Naboo half a century before. Few beings, some of the lowest class, seemed to walk around gasping as if they did not know what was going on and moved to vender to vender round and round in a sort of slow, passionless excitement.

Soon the holy men called all people to join them for the trimming of the tree and songs of reverence and thanks and away they came, all donning their best clothes and with the gayest faces. At the same time, it seemed, emerged scores of those form the city's underbelly, carrying dinners to the few shops that were still open. The sight of these poor people appeared to interest the Spirit very much, for he flew over with Sidious beside him at the door ways of the shops, and with a wave of his hand, he lifted the covers as their bearers passed, and incense sprinkled on their dinners from his torch. It was an odd sort of torch for the few moments where it seemed that anger was about to spread through those waiting in line or when one jostled another, he shed a few drops of water on them, and their good humor was immediately restored. They said it was a shame to quarrel upon Life Day. And so it was! God love it, so it was!

"What sort of flavor did you sprinkle from your torch?" asked Sidious

"My own, it is."

"Would it apply to any sort of dinner eaten today?" asked Sidious.

"To any given kindly, it would. To a poor one most of all."

"Why is that?" asked Sidious.

"Because needed the most, it is."

"I suppose that _is_ what the Jedi are for," replied Sidious, with a sideways glance at the Spirit.

"If wise you were, take heed, you would, the lessons of the Jedi Council," chastised the Ghost. "Or risk the loss of the Republic's loyalty, you do."

"Forgive me, but I don't see what trimmed trees, carols, and fireworks have to do with affective government leadership," Sidious said, frowning at a boy who singing 'Here We Come A-Wassailing' in an excruciatingly high key.

"There are some, in this galaxy of yours," returned the Spirit, "who in your name deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness they do. Fear the Senate, these people do. To end this war, a long time it will take. If think, you do, that you can keep your power without providing a reprieve of hope and happiness to the people, fail you will. Powerless, you will be."

Sidious tensed, but remained silent; and they went on, invisible as before, into the area where the members of the Jedi Order were most provided housing. It was a somewhat remarkable quality of the Ghost that notwithstanding his small size, he could accommodate himself to any situation with ease; and that he was capable of attaining what he desired just as well in a lofty hall as he could have in a tiny den.

Perhaps it was because the good Spirit felt pleasure, Sidious mused, in showing off this power of his, or else it was just his own kind, generous nature to all poor men, that led him to the dwellings of Obi-Wan Kenobi; for there he went, and Sidious travelling with him, still holding fast to his robe; and on the threshold of the door the Spirit smiled, and stopped to gift Kenobi's home with a sprinkle of his torch. Think of that! Obi-Wan, like all members of the Jedi order, refused possessions, lived in poverty, selfless, and entirely devoted to the welfare of the Republic, having cast away his own meager wants; and yet the Ghost of Life Day Present not only had chosen the form of his Council, but had blessed his small home!

Then up rose Jedi Siri Tachi, Kenobi's dearest companion; she laid the cloth, assisted by Master Luminara Unduli, also dear to the host; while R2D2 carried the serving tray with the saucepan of potatoes, and wheeling back and forth to set the table for the evening's festive dinner, beeping cheerfully. And now two younger Padawans, Ahsoka Tano and Zonder, came in with meat given to them by the kind shop owners lining the streets, talking excitedly in their elated moods; and basking in luxurious thoughts these two Padawans circled the table like small children.

"What do you suppose is taking Obi-Wan so long?" said Siri.

"Master Anakin too," said Ahsoka. "Even 3PO is late!"

"I'm so sorry Master Ahsoka," said a droid, appearing as it spoke. In its arms it carried another tray of fruits and treats. "You would not have believed the crowd."

"Why, what all is this!" Siri said, taking the tray from the droid's arms and returning it to the table.

"Well we won't be short on food, that's for sure," chimed Ahsoka and Zonder agreed with a laugh.

As they spoke, Jedi Knight Barriss Offee entered form the opposite room, a small smile on her tattooed face. "As long as everyone is here, I suppose any tardiness can be excused."

"C3PO and R2D2, would you mind bringing in the cart of silverware in here," asked Siri, arranging the food in the center of the table.

"No, no wait! Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi are coming," cried Ahsoka, who was peering out the apartment door past Sidious and his Ghostly escort. "3PO, hide! You too, R2, hide!"

C3PO started, "Oh my, what did you say?"

"Hide!" Ahsoka said and she and Zonder ushered the droids into the coat closet by the door and in came Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, looking tired but unusually cheerful; and at his side Anakin Skywalker. Little Ani, was not so tiny anymore. Anakin bore a glove over his mechanical arm and a smirk upon his face once he saw how excited his Padawan was looking in the corner.

"What's gotten into you, Snips?"

"Why, where is R2 and 3PO?" said Obi-Wan, looking around.

"I don't suppose they are coming," said Siri as she and Luminara finished preparing the dinner seats.

"Not coming!" said Obi-Wan, with a sudden shift in his high spirits. "Blast those droids, Anakin! Not even on Life Day do they listen!"

C3PO hated to disappoint anyone, even if it were just for a joke; so he burst out from the closet and shuffled hurriedly to his side with R2 right beside him, while Ahsoka took Anakin in the other room to see if he liked the pudding she had attempted to make.

"I'm so sorry Master Kenobi," C3PO nervously said. "Master Ahsoka thought it would be quite amusing if you didn't know where the two of us were and, of course you didn't find it that amusing because, as a matter of fact, you are starting to look quite annoyed… I can see the redness of your cheeks behind your beard." At this R2 made a noise very much like a sigh. "I do hope you are not too angry at us Master Obi-Wan, I would never-"

"That's enough, 3PO," said Obi-Wan. "Please, let that be enough."

"How did Anakin behave with the Council?" asked Siri, when she had Obi-Wan's ear alone.

"Less snarky as you might imagine," said Obi-Wan, "better than I imagined it would go, seeing as he will be leading his own fleet pretty soon. He gets so restless when he's forced to stay still for too long, and thinks up the most outlandish ideas you have ever heard." Obi-Wan shook his head. "He is a gifted Knight, though, that's for sure."

"And you were a magnificent Master," Siri said with a gentle smile. "Of that, I am certain."

Anakin's laugh drifted in to the room as he and his Padawan reappeared with the bowl. "Is this all that you have gotten out of your training, Snips- the way of the Jedi chef?"

After that a jovial mood fell over the group as Jedi and droids alike set about compounding some hot mixture in a jug with a sprinkle of fire water and lemons, and stirred it round and round until it began to simmer; R2D2 and the two Padawans went to fetch the meat they had brought in, and both returned with high procession.

Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought the food upon the table was composed of the rarest of delicacies; a bizarrely delicious phenomenon. Siri brought the gravy in a saucepan, which was hissing hot; R2D2 smashed potatoes from an odd apparatus in his middle compartment; Luminara sweetened up the fruit sauce; Barriss set about the hot plates; Obi-Wan joined Anakin by the fireplace; the two Padawans rearranged the seats, yet again, not forgetting themselves this time, and sitting down at their chosen seats, grabbing spoons and waiting with impatience not befitting for young Jedi, but they scarcely cared. At last all was as it should be and all were seated as they thanked the Force for all the gifts it bared and for gifting them with knowledge, peace, and life. It was succeeded by a pause, as Siri, handed the carving knife to Obi-Wan and he began to cut into the feast, dividing out portions to the rare happiness of them all.

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the floor swept, and the fire blazed again. The mixture in the jug was distributed and Jedi and droids gathered around the fire, the mood settling into the peaceful flow that was more accustomed to the life of the Jedi. And while the fire crackled, Obi-Wan proposed:

"A Happy Life Day to us all, my friends; Force bless us!

Which all the company re-echoed.

"Force bless us, everyone!" said Anakin, last of all in with such a high pitched, girly voice and serious expression that everyone had to struggle not to spit out their cider from laughter.

"Spirit," said Sidious, with an interest he had yet to feel up to that point, "tell me if Skywalker shall live to see the end of this war."

"See, I do, a vacant place," replied the Ghost, "amongst the order, and a saber without an owner, carefully preserved. If remain unaltered, by the Future these shadows do, Skywalker will die, and your chances of becoming Emperor, die along with it, they will."

"No," said Sidious defiantly, the loss of his rising apprentice, a fate he refused to accept. "How will it happen?"

"See through your disguise, he will. Loyal to his old master, he will stay," the Spirit replied, with a glance up at the Sith Lord.

"Impossible," Sidious declared.

"Too sure of your success, you have become," the Ghost chimed. "Selfish, you appear. Trust you Skywalker does, for now. Surrounds you, the Dark Side does. Your cloak of deception, unraveling it is. If nothing changes, fail you will."

In a place where at any other given time in his lifetime he would have felt an overwhelming surge of disgust and rage at the Spirit's remarks, Sidious instead bowed his head as he meditated upon the words quoted by the Spirit, searching through his mind to figure a point at which he might have let the façade fall.

"Sith," said the Ghost, "if fear losing power you do, more care you must take with those you think beneath you. Decide what men shall live, what men shall die, you do? It may be that, when tampering with the Will of the Force, more worthless and less fit to receive power than the millions you have caused to die, you will be seen. Unkind the Dark Side is; walk a thin line, you do."

Sidious inclined his head, a strange fear gnawing at his insides. He was about to speak, but stopped when he heard his own name.

"To Palpatine!" said Obi-Wan quietly, raising his glass. "I say we toast to the Chancellor, the Founder of the Feast."

"The Founder of the Feast indeed!" cried Siri, reddening in a most uncharacteristic sort of way. She paused and looked around at the eyes trained on her and said, "Forgive me, but there is just something that has _changed_ about the Chancellor. The hope he brought with his election is fading away, as is the peace. It has been hardly anytime at all since he was granted emergency powers and already I feel the Dark Side gathering. Dreadful times lie ahead. Of that I am certain."

"Siri," said Obi-Wan, "set your worries aside just for today; Life Day."

The group nodded in approval and they drank to the Chancellor's health. It was the first act of the evening that took on any sort of gloom. Anakin drank last of all, but, in truth, he cared little for it. It seemed Palpatine had cast a dark shadow on the party, which none could dispel.

Then, without a word of warning from the Ghost, the room began to transform into a violent maelstrom, sucking the Spirit and the Sith into the yawning mouth of what Sidious imagined as a moaning leviathan. His breath caught in his throat and somewhere in the distance he heard the Spirit bade him to grab hold of his robe.

It was a great surprise to Sidious, while moving through the lonely darkness, falling into the abyss, that he was seized by fear, so gripping that for a moment he had to question if this he was on the brink of death and if all that had transpired before was just the delusions that his mind would conjure to confuse his soul to a passage without fight. It was even more of a surprise, while thus engaged in these dark thoughts, to hear a hearty laugh that he recognized as belonging to Master Fisto and to find himself in the bright, clear, gleaming room high atop the Ivory Tower, with the Spirit smiling by his side, looking upon the scene with approving affability!

"Ha, ha!" laughed Master Fisto. "Ha, ha, ha!"

If it should happen, by any unlikely chance, that you come across a man with a more blest nature than Master Kit Fisto, all I can say is, I should like to know him too. Introduce me to him, and I shall strike up his acquaintance.

It is a fair, even handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is decay in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter, easy nature, and good-humor. When Kit Fisto laughed in this way, sporting a wide, winning smile, a light mood fell over the entire Council and the room carried a sense of happiness that was foreign to the usually serene environment.

"He said that Life Day was a humbug, that's how he replied!" said Kit Fisto. "And he believed it too!"

"More shame for him, then. It would have done him good to have given his approval. Re-won the hearts of the Republic and the peace felt today would have been so much greater." said Master Aayla Secura, indignantly. Ah, bless that woman; she never does anything by halves and is always earnest.

"I sense a great disturbance in the Force, and I believe the Chancellor is in the center of it," said Master Mace Windu. "I doubt this will be the last time we see the Chancellor behave as such."

"His offenses carry their own punishments," said Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, "and I have nothing to say against him. If he continues on this way, the Republic will catch wind and his political career will end. His many noble acts can easily be forgotten in the face of war and suffering."

"The Senate's patience with him, running thin it is," observed Master Yoda. Sidious looked down at the Spirit beside him, then across to the other figure who seemed to have no consciousness of their presence, then back down to the Spirit who was genuinely amused at the Sith's confusion. "Deal with it for long, they will not."

"Oh, I agree," said Kit Fisto. "Soon enough the mighty Chancellor's emergency powers will be relinquished and he should be removed from office."

"That is if any sense returns to the Republic," Mace Windu said, leaning back in his seat.

"Well, we must have faith that it will," said Master Shaak Ti. "That is the only hope of relinquishing the threat of the Dark Side."

"I hope right, you are," Master Yoda said with a nod.

Kit Fisto laughed again at the absurdity of the situation- the few members of the High Council that had chosen to convene for their own celebration of the Day having their unusually, close to cheerful, mood disrupted by a politician of all things! Once again it was impossible to keep the infection off and the feeling in the room lightened.

"He seems to have taken a dislike to us," said Kit Fisto. "Appears that any advice we can give he takes as the Council meddling in political affairs. If you ask me he is just scared we might discover something corrupt- embezzlement or tax surfing or something equally as typical. The only thing we can do is continue to serve the Republic as we have sworn to do, and tolerate its stubborn Bantha for a leader." Kit Fisto smiled at having been so blunt, "And that's the truth of it. Who knows? Maybe I shook him yesterday."

Music was wafting into the tower's windows from the festivities outside and they all fell silent and simply sat and listened. The Ghost was greatly pleased to find them in such a pleasant mood, and looked upon them with favor. The entire evening wasn't completely void of uncharacteristic behavior, which seemed the norm for all upon that day. Soon thereafter, a childish game ensued.

"Is this what the Council does, Spirit," Sidious said, amused, "Instead of guarding the Republic? No wonder they are so easily fooled."

It was a Game called Yes and No, where Kit Fisto proposed to think of something, and the rest must find out what; and, of course, he could only answer the question with the words Yes or No. The fire of questioning was exposed, and it was discovered that he was thinking of an animal, alive animal, a rather disagreeable anima, a savage anima, an animal who grunts and growls, and talked sometimes, and dwelled on Coruscant, and occasionally roamed about the streets, and wasn't made a show of, and was led by no one but followed by some, and could not be found in a real zoo, although something quite like one, had yet to be killed in a market, and was not a rancor or a ripper, seeing as those contradicted with the dwelling on Coruscant, and was not a barve, although some might disagree. At last Aayla Secura clapped her hands together once with a soft laugh, and said:

"Ah, I know what you are doing!"

"What is it," cried Kit Fisto.

"It's Chancellor Palpatine!"

They all nodded in approval, secure with the fact that this night would remain off record.

"Well, despite his dearest wishes, he has given us plenty of merriment tonight," said Kit Fisto. "And it would be ungrateful not to wish for his health. So, I say, May the Force be with the Chancellor."

And they all agreed.

"Happy Life Day to the old man, whatever he is!" said Kit Fisto. "He wouldn't take it from me, but he may have it, nevertheless."

Darth Sidious had imperceptibly become so amused at total ignorance of the High Council that he would have approached the unconscious company and thanked each and every one of them for their continued blindness at the true threat that was lurking just across the way, if the Ghost had given him time. But the whole scene faded away as the last words were spoken by the Master; and he and the Spirit were again set about their travels.

It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Sidious had his doubts. It was strange; too, that while Sidious's body remained unaltered, the Ghost, already ancient in appearance, grew older, clearly older. He had noticed this procession as the night waned on, but had said nothing until now they were standing in an open place, which Sidious quickly discovered to be the top of the chrono tower.

"Are spirits' lives so short?" asked Sidious.

"My life upon this globe, brief it is," replied the Ghost. "Ends tonight, it does."

"Tonight," Sidious observed.

"Tonight at midnight. Drawing near, the time is."

The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that very moment.

"Pardon me if it is unwise to ask," said Sidious, looking intently at the Spirit's robe. "but I see something strange protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw!?"

"Perhaps a claw, it might be, for the small amount of flesh there is upon it," was the Spirit's sorrowful reply. "Look here."

Coming forth from his robes, and growing larger with each crawl they made, it brought two children; wretched, deformed, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung to the outside of its garment.

"Down here, you must look. Down here!" said the Ghost and its voice echoed like thunder.

They were a boy and girl. They were yellowed, ragged, scowling, and savage; but bowed over in humility. Where their skin should have carried the life of youth, it was withered and pale like that of an aging corpse, pinched and twisted, pulled into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of creations, has monsters half so horrible been bred.

Sidious started back, appalled; which attests to the dreadful nature of the children, for Sidious did not appall easy. Having them shown in this way, he tried to say that they were fine children, but this was the first lie that he did not have the power to bring to his lips.

"Are they yours?" Scrooge asked, but he could say no more.

"Yours, they are," said the Spirit, looking down upon them. "Cling to me, they do, in fear of their father before them. This boy, Arrogance, he is. This girl is Cruelty. Beware them both, you should. But most of all, this boy you should fear, for written upon his brow, I see, Doom, unless erased the writing should be." said the Spirit, turning to him for a final time as he spoke his last words.

The bell tolled twelve.

Sidious looked about him for the Ghost, but saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of the old Muun, and lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, his face shadowed by the hood of his cowl, coming towards him.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Nearly there! Tell me what you think! Hope you are enjoying the season 3**


	4. The Last of the Three Spirits

**Episode Four: The Last of the Spirits**

The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came, Sidious bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which the Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand that held fast to the knob of a cane. It was this feature alone that separated him from the darkness by which it was surrounded.

He felt that it was powerful and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread, accompanied by the wonderment that this stranger was someone he knew quite well. But he could know no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved.

"I am in the presence of the Ghost of Life Day Yet to Come, I presume?" said Sidious.

The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.

"You are about to show me visions of things that have not yet happened, but will happen if I proceed in my present course," Sidious tried again. "Is that so, Spirit.

The figure nodded, but that was the only answer he was given.

Although well used to ghostly company by this time- and even more used to familiar faces taking spectral form- Sidious feared the silent shape in such a fashion that was as much a stranger to him as the intimate connection he felt with the figure was natural, and he found that he could hardly force his legs to comply when he prepared to follow it. The Spirit paused a moment, as if observing Sidious's assessments, and giving him time to recover.

But Sidious was all the worse for this. It thrilled him with a vague uncertain horror, to know that behind the dusky shroud, there were ghostly eyes intently fixed upon him, and in that instant he yearned for nothing more than to see its face, to discover which figure from his life had taken ghostly form upon Plagueis's calling and was now intent upon leading him through yet another night of visions and wonderment.

"Ghost of the Future!" he exclaimed, "I fear you more than any specter I have seen. As such, I welcome your company all the more. And I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to make the most out of the gifts given to me by the Force, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a most open mind." He paused. "Will you speak to me?"

It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them.

"So be it," said Sidious.

The Phantom moved away in the direction it had come. Sidious followed in its shadow.

To say that they entered the city would, in a sense, prove to be false, for the city seemed to spring upon them, and encompass them of its own act. But there they were, in the heart of it. Sidious blinked as his eyes adjusted to the new light, which was darker than before. All about him people were singing, cheering, and dancing with enthusiasm, the likes of which he had never seen an equal. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was drowned out by the sounds of thunder and when he looked up he saw that the night was filled with a kaleidoscope of light. _Fireworks_.

The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of men. Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Sidious advanced to listen to their talk.

"No," said a large man with monstrous stomach, "I don't know much about it, either way. I only know that he's dead and the galaxy is better off for it."

"Here, here," complied a human dressed in dirty clothes.

"Pathetic, really," inputted another, pulling a rag out from his pocket and wiping his face. "I believe the old man thought he'd never die. But death doesn't take bribes. No matter how much power you have."

"God knows we are thankful for that," the first man said.

"What do you suppose will happen with his concubines?" asked the third man, his face turning red as a great smile broke across his face.

"I haven't heard," replied the second. "He hasn't left them to _me_. That's all I know."

This pleasantry was received with a general laugh and a few bumping elbows.

"Are they even going to have a funeral," said the same speaker; "for the life of me I can't imagine anyone who would want to go. Well, except maybe Isard that is."

The group exchanged crude looks.

"Perhaps Iceheart will need comforting during this terrible time of loss," said the obese man. "I've been told I look hideous and disgusting and saggy by my wife on several occasions. I'm just her type!"

Another laugh.

"Well, I am the most disinterested among you, after all," said the third speaker, "for I am fairly young and I have no interest in the distraught seconds of a corroded toad. However, I might attend the funeral if there was one. I feel rather close to His Majesty; for I used to let my dog piss on his statue whenever we walked past. Bye, bye now, supper is calling!"

Speakers and listeners departed, and mixed in with the celebration crowd. Isard? Surely they could not mean Ysanne. She was such a young girl and he had barely paid her a second glance after the first day she arrived at work with her father. Sidious looked towards the Spirit for an explanation.

The Phantom glided on into the street. Sidious stood for a moment watching as the figure turned back to face him, unmoving from its position a few yards away. It was then that Sidious heard the crack of crumbling rock and deafening uproar of cheers behind him. He turned to see what the fuss was about, but was caught off guard as he was greeted with a face that he saw to be his own, made of stone, and plummeting down upon him. He sprang back and watched along with the others, half full of confusion, half of anger, as the form of his body collided with the ground, and the head separated from the body.

Now a lesser man, one who struggles with denial or who is incapable of facing his worst fears with dignity and awareness, would have looked to the Phantom for answers. But Sidious what not such a man and, as such, he knew exactly what game was being played. All he was unsure of was how precisely he was to proceed.

Quiet and dark, beside him stood the Phantom, with its outstretched hand. With a new sense of awareness, Sidious roused himself from his frozen stance and he fancied from the turn of the hand, and its situation in reference to himself, that the unseen eyes were looking at him keenly. It made him shudder, and feel very cold.

"Remove me from this place, Spirit. Show me what led to this moment."

They left the busy scene, and, in an instant, the two had left Coruscant all together. Sidious knew not where they were, but he was taken aback by an overwhelming surge of heat and surmised that they were on the shore of a lake of fire. Mustafar, perhaps?

Sidious turned to the Spirit, curious. The Phantom pointed to the edge of the lava where a limbless, lifeless, skinless, charred creature lay. Sidious- despite the surplus of gore he had seen throughout his many years- could have been sick. Upon forcing himself to observe the corpse more closely, he noticed that it did, in fact, have one limb; a mechanical one in place of his right arm and in that moment he knew- it was Anakin Skywalker.

But how could this be? He had not foreseen the death of his future apprentice. Contrariwise, he had foreseen that Skywalker would be the catalyst of the Sith rising to once more rule the galaxy. Skywalker's death was out of the question. He could not allow that to happen. He refused to let it happen. More so if such a great feeling of loss would lead to his own demise.

"Tell me: is there a way to prevent this fate?"

It was not as though he truly had expected an answer; the question was more posed to his own person. Something that he would ponder upon a solution for, seeing as this was unacceptable.

"Spirit, if there is any horror more devastating than this, if there be any other vision more horrifying that you wish for me to see in an effort to deter me from my present course, which would help me in my quest at the fulfillment of the Plan then reveal it now."

The Phantom was quick to appease. Shadows engulfed them, and Sidious and the Phantom came into the presence of a man, whom Sidious recognized to be Sate Pestage, surrounded by guards, and kneeling before a woman whom Sidious also knew to be Ysanne Isard- albeit a much older version.

"You sought to betray the Empire, did you Pestage?"

"Believe me, Your Majesty-"

"Believe you? Well, that seems a bit of a reach. Did you or did you not, to save your own pathetic life, seek to turn over Coruscant to the New Republic?" These last words she spoke as if they left a foul taste in her mouth.

"Yes," Pestage said, bowing his head.

"I suppose if you were to argue with me you would argue such things as 'Every person has a right to take care of themselves. After all, _he_ always did."

"That's true, indeed," said the stricken vizier, "No man more so."

"Why then, do you stand staring as if you are afraid; as if you have committed some grievous mistake?"

"I do not know, Your Majesty."

"That much," Isard said, "is obvious. Perhaps if he had wanted to simply give up his empire, he would have done so during the course of his natural life. And if he had, someone, other than you, I presume, would have seen to it when he was struck with Death, instead of fighting to keep it intact as it fell into shambles as it so threatens to do now."

"Truer words were never spoken, Your Highness," said Pestage, who understood the danger he was in, fought to keep all bitterness and sarcasm from his voice. "It was a grave mistake on my part. Calling you my Master is a judgment on me, as well as him."

"Ah, do not feel comfortable just yet, worm. A heavier judgment has yet to pass," replied Isard, with a sneer; "and I assure you, to speak quite plainly, fewer things will give me more pleasure than to watch your corpse rot."

Sidious watched as his aid was led away, before turning his eyes back on the woman who sat upon the throne. A woman! To think, stripped of his power and replaced by a woman! He would have preferred Pestage's fate to one as terrible as that.

"Spirit, I am no fool. The things you show me are occurrences that shall happen after my death, should I proceed in my current course, is that not true?"

The Phantom gave no reply.

"Very well. Should I be defeated," Sidious said, unwilling to utter the word 'killed'; "should the Jedi return after I achieve my power, should the Republic rise again, and should my quest to control Skywalker fail, what is the place where it will happen. Where will I… die?"

The Spirit pointed and their location changed.

A throne room. Here, then, the manner of his death he had now to learn would be performed. It was a worthy place he decided, if such a thing as his death were indeed possible.

The Spirit stood along a bridge and pointed down into the depths of the reactor shaft. Sidious advanced towards him, uneasy. The Phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape.

"Before I draw nearer to that which you point," said Sidious, "Is that which you are about to show me shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of things that May be?"

Still the Ghost pointed downward into the abyss by which it stood.

"Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, that much is clear," said Sidious. "But if the courses they travel be departed from, if they grow wiser and change their means, the ends will change as well, is that not correct? Say that is what you show me."

The Spirit was as immovable as ever.

Sidious paused for a moment, and then stepped forward, intent on following the Sprit's government. As he did so a cry of agony sounded that was so sudden and so unexpected that Sidious started and had to grab the railing to keep from falling down the shaft below.

He cast his gaze in the direction from whence the scream came and as he did the Spirit stepped from his position beside him, raising its hands as forks of Sith lightening connected to Ghostly fingertips.

On the ground there lay a boy, young in age, which greatly resembled the current form of Anakin Skywalker; so much so that they could be related. Did Anakin have a brother?

Another torrent of lightening from the Spirit and the boy's body doubled in on itself as the flesh of his face began to smoke.

The hood of the Spirit began to move, as if it were inclining its head. Between them stood a tall, imposing figure, of which Sidious was unsure whether it be a man or a machine. The slow hiss that it produced reminded him of one other. Darth Plagueis. Is it possible that his purposes were sinister after all?

"Father, please, help me!" cried the young man on the ground.

Father. He had a child? Inconceivable; he would not allow it.

But wait! Could it be that this was the son of _Skywalker_? He looked again to the towering figure between the Spirit and the Son, his heart feeling with dread. Anakin survived and so did his _son_.

"Spirit! Tell me, will this boy be my undoing? Is this what was hoped that I would yield from these visions?"

At once the lightening ceased; the Spirit pointed from the boy to him, and back again. Sidious stepped forward, a chilling affirmation took hold.

"Spirit," Sidious said again. "If you will have it, let me look upon your face."

The Phantom remained unmoved.

"Spirit," Sidious quoted, moving to stand directly in the middle of the boy and the Ghost. "Please, show me your face."

Again, the Spirit made no reply. Sidious's hands trembled and he balled them into fists to hide a weakness that he knew those keen, haunting eyes had already seen. When he spoke, he did so with considerably less conviction than he had intended. "Show me your face."

For a moment, the Spirit remained motionless. Then, slowly, the shadows of its arms rose, finding their way to the shroud that shielded its form. Sidious heard a noise like a thousand tormented whispers as the Phantom pulled back the black fabric.

Sidious staggered back, his breath caught in his throat. Once again, I must remark that a lesser man would have been horrified, repulsed, and shattered if the face that had greeted him, his own face, mind you, were as deformed, scarred, and mangled as the one he had just born witness to at his own command. And Once again I must remark that it is a fine thing, indeed, that Sidious was no such man. The only thing that sourced through his mind, in a place where dread should have been was an overwhelming feeling of success as he recalled a memory of a night by a dying fire, once thought long forgotten.

"_Will I eventually be physically transformed?"_

"_Into some aged, pale-skinned, raspy voiced, yellow-eyed monster, you mean. Such as the one before you." Plagueis gestured himself then lowered himself to the ground. "… I can't say. Know this, though, Sidious, that the power of the dark side does not debilitate the practitioner as much as it debilitates those who lack it." He grinned with evil purpose. "The power of the dark side is an illness no true Sith would wish to be cured of."_

So he had achieved the power after all!

"Spirit," Sidious said, "what of these happenings would I seek to change? What have I not gained that I have ever strived for? What could I have possibly overlooked?" He let out a short laugh. "Were all these ghostly visitations for nothing!?"

The Spirit covered its face and pointed through Sidious to the boy beyond.

"No, Spirit! No, no!"

Pain engulfed him and his own screams mingled with the boys. Then his feet left the ground and a new sort of pain gripped his limbs as the towering figure that was once Anakin Skywalker held him high overhead. Then, in a moment of terror he thought beneath him moments ago, he was thrown over the railing above the reactor shaft and plummeted down to the death that awaited him, helpless to either slow his fall or to save himself.

That was when he caught hold of the outstretched hand that pulled him up just meters from safety. Above him was his savior, the Phantom, silent and watchful.

"Spirit!" he cried, "hear me! I understand! Please, believe that I shall not be the man I would have been if not for this vision! Why show me this, why force me to experience this, if I am past all hope?"

For the first time the hand appeared to shake.

"Good Spirit," he pursued, as tighter he clung to it: "Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have sown me, by an altered life!"

The kind hand trembled.

"I will honor these lessons in my very soul, and keep this reminder with me year after year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!"

The Phantom inclined his head and then the form of his hand vanished and Sidious was falling once again. Faster and faster and faster still he fell, into the waiting abyss that was his bedroom.


	5. The End of It

**Episode Five: The End of It**

Yes! And the room was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and most fortunant of all, the time before him was his own, to make amends in!

"I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!" Sidious repeated, as he left his bed. "The Spirits of all Three shall strive within my memory. Ah Plagueis, this might have been your wisest feat yet. The Force be praised for this.

He was so conflicted with his mixed thoughts that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call. He had been working violently in his conflict with the Spirit, and his face was hot to the touch.

"Not deformed yet, I see," cried Sidious. He rose from his bed and looked about his chambers, bewildered.

"I don't know what to do!" cried Sidious, laughing and sighing in the same breath. "I'm as light as a feather it would seem." He picked up the empty bottle of wine he had finished the night of Plagueis's visit. "Am I drunk? A Happy Life Day to everybody! A happy New Year as well, while they're at it."

He had traveled down the corridor and was now standing in the Royal Suite: perfectly winded.

"There's the door, by which the Ghost of Plagueis entered!" said Sidious, sitting down as he convinced himself that all that had transpired had, in fact, occurred. "Here's the couch where the Ghost of Life Day Present, sat! There's the window where I saw the wandering Spirit's! It's all right, it all true, it all happened. Ha, ha, ha!"

Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh. The father of a long, long line of brilliant laughs!

"I don't know what day of the month it is!" said Sidious. "I don't know how long I've been among the Spirits. I don't know anything. I'm not sure I quite like that. Never mind. I don't care."

Moving to the window, he opened it, and took in the cold breeze of the Coruscant morning; Golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells. All so glorious after so much time in fatal darkness.

He picked up his comlink and waited impatiently for Sate Pestage to answer; when he did, Sidious delivered his words quickly. "What's today?"

"I'm sorry," returned the vizier, sounding as if he had just been awoken from a deep sleep.

"What's today, Pestage?" said Sidious.

"Today?" replied the vizier. "Why, it was supposed to be Life Day, granted you approve the petition."

"It's Life Day!" said Sidious to himself. "I haven't missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of course they can. Hello, Sate!"

"Hello, Chancellor," returned the vizier. "Are you alright, sir?"

"Sate Pestage I want you to alert the Senators that Life Day has my full approval this year. Spare no expense; I want these people to know that the Republic and its Chancellor will provide whatever they need. Let them know that their loyalty is not misplaced!"

"Of course, Chancellor," the vizier retuned, sounding taken off guard. "Right away, sir."

"Very good, then," Sidious said, disconnecting the transmission.

Shaving was not an easy task, for his hand continued to shake very much; and shaving requires attention, even when you don't dance while you are at it. But if he had cut the end of his nose off, he would have put a piece of plaster over it, and been quite satisfied. It's not as if you would be able to tell much of a difference when his face melted anyway.

He dressed himself to the usual level of excellence, and at last got out into his transport. Looking out the window he saw that the people were already starting to pour forth, as he had seen them with the Ghost of Life Day Present; and sitting with his hands folded in his lap, Sidious regarded each one that turned to him with a delighted smile. He put on a face that was more pleasant than usual and when he made his way to his office he offered three or four good humored senators a "Good morning and a Happy Life Day to you!"

He had not far, when coming on towards him he beheld the two senators, who had walked into his office the day before, Bail Organa and Jar-Jar Binks. As much as his spirits had lifted, it still sent a pang in his chest to think of how grating it would be to pass words with the Gungan; but he knew that there was no way to avoid them, and so he went to approach them.

"My dear Senator Organa and Representative Binks," said Sidious with a smile. "How do you do? I hope you are enjoying the day, seeing as how yesterday has proved to be successful for you after all! It was very noble of you to consider the feelings of the Republic in such a way. You are truly two of the most dedicated politicians I have seen to date. A happy Life Day to you, sirs!"

"Chancellor Palpatine?"

"Yes," said Sidious. "That is my name, and I fear it may no longer be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness-" here Sidious whispered in the Senator's ear.

"Bless me!" Organa cried, as if his breath were gone. "Chancellor, are you serious?"

"If you please," said Sidious. "Not a credit less. A great many new adjustments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that favor and have it brought to the Senate's attention as soon as possible."

"I will!" said the Senator with a low bow.

"Thank you," said Sidious. "I am much obliged to you. Good day gentlemen!"

He passed through his office door, held a pleasant tone throughout his meetings scheduled for that day, before finally deciding to close off his office early, in time to attend the firework celebration.

As he was heading out for the evening, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and, in a rare fit of inner speculation, stopped to study his reflection. The mask he wore held no trace of malice, or decay, or deformity, or darkness. It was the face of a kindly old man whose pale blue eyes held welcoming warmth that those yellow flames could never possess. Indeed, he could see now just how important it was to ensure that this mask was never allowed to falter.

Sitting in his place of honor, Sidious had a marvelous view of the city and its festivities. Below he saw Master Kit Fisto and Master Kenobi who, noticing the Chancellor was looking their way, nodded and wished him a Happy Life Day. When Master Yoda hobbled up beside them, Sidious had to put great effort into not breaking out into laughter.

Off near a side alley, the Chancellor could make out two figures that obviously did not wish to be seen; Figures that Sidious recognized as being Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala. The Sith Lord raised a brow; he would have to keep a close watch on those two. Evidently any offspring they would produce could prove to be a threat.

He heard someone call his name and he turned just in time to see Armand Isard waving to him, his daughter Ysanne at his side. Sidious nodded his head with a smile, but his focus remained on the girl. Perhaps there was more to her than he had previously thought. In the future, he decided, it would be best to get to know her a little more. She would need to be kept in check.

Sidious vowed to be true to his word and to, in such a way, attempt to change the course of fate. He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the thought that if he ever deterred too drastically from his present course that they would return to place him straight once more. After all, he had not realized at the time that the power he would gain would, in fact, be unlimited, so surely that played a part in the grand scheme of things, would it not? More so, overconfidence wasn't such a weakness if you knew you would succeed, right? And, following this line of thought, one with unlimited power would ensure that everything would proceed just as they had foreseen. Where could there possibly be a problem?

With these thoughts in mind, Sidious journeyed into the future and onto his ever persistent search for power. But how successful was he really? What did he really learn from his ghostly encounters?

Well, I assure you that if any man alive did, in fact, possess that knowledge; it would take them an entire Saga to figure out. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Anakin Skywalker once said, Force Bless Us, Every One!

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**And so the tale has come to an end XD**

**Huge thanks to my dear friends **DarkJediJade **and **Darth Lawyer** who put up with me and my questions. At a later date I shall go back and fix and tweak and whatnot, but for now, I hope you enjoy this as you settle down for the holidays! **

**Much love and appreciations for all the kind reviews and PM's that pushed me to finish. It means the world to me, even if I rushed through the end xP**

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and Force Bless us, Everyone!

**-Obsydian**


End file.
